"Cymru the Dragon" by Sarah ´SRW´ Bevon

Six hundred is not old for a dragon, but by the time they are perhaps five hundred, dragons are expected to have quite a cache of treasure. Oh, sure, not all dragons do. But it is considered proper form. This dragon, Cymru, was brought up to be a proper dragon. Unfortunately, his treasure pile was middling bordering on small. This was not right.

Quite rightly, Cymru was a bit depressed because of this. He curled up in his cave and lay sighing often, dreaming of the treasure he did not have. It was quite difficult to get, as even the little pink things that tasted nice didn’t have much. That was how dragons thought of them. The little-pink-things-that-taste-nice, who raised deer-who-don’t-run-away and birds-that-don’t-fly. Needless to say, the humans, cows, and chickens would all probably been quite offended had they known this was what dragons thought of them as. They simply didn’t respect dragons properly.

The only people who really did have any treasure worth the name, at that time, were dragons and fairies. They had their proper name, being almost as intelligent and powerful as dragons. All the dragons knew that. Another thing every dragon knew was that fairies had great wealth, but would never give you any. Ever.
So perhaps it came as a surprise when, one day, a fairy approached Cymru. Dressed all in green, she looked about to take root at any second. A plant fairy then.

“Dragon, I have a deal for you,” she called up to him. Cymru picked her up with a talon so she swung by the back of her shirt in front of him.
“Ssssspeak,” he hissed. That was how dragons spoke. Very like their distant relatives the lizards and snakes (not that any dragon would ever admit the relationship), but far easier to understand.
“The world is changing, Dragon,” the fairy yelled, “and not for the better. Perhaps we can both be happy.”
“What deal, sssmall one?” Cymru responded. The fairy obviously thought itself clever.
“I want rain. You want treasure.”
“Ssso?” Cymru wanted her to spell it out. No hidden traps then. Besides, he already knew that.
“So you make it rain, as dragons can, and I’ll give you treasure.”
“What makesss it fair?” Cymru was definitely getting interested.
“I give you one jewel for each time you make it rain. The more rain, the bigger the jewel.” The fairy paused to consider. “But only one jewel a day.”

It was certainly fair, as far as Cymru could see. He agreed.
And so, honouring their deal, each day Cymru would make it rain on the land for miles around his lair, huge, heavy rains. In return, each day the fairy gave him a jewel. Over time, the rain began to go farther and farther across the land, until it covered the whole land. Cymru soon  (for dragons) became the wealthiest dragon in the world. The fairy, in return, had all the rain her plants required. Their deal holds to this day, more than ten thousand years later. Which is why, even today, it rains so much in Wales.